Undeserved
by Locotaco14
Summary: "What are the odds...? I never saw it, until, now... I wasn't ready... I wasn't prepared... However, you'd like to put it... It seems it just follows me... controls me... eats at my insides... What are the odds...? But now I know... I don't deserve this."
1. Prologue

**A/N: So by now, I think you're drawing a blank... You've read the summary (I hope...) and yes, this is the sequal to Killer Obsession... It has finally come after weeks of work I got the Prologue and the first chapter... COMPLETED... First, should be posted tommorrow or later in the week... Just got make a few "homey touches"... And don't worry... everything will be clear... soon enough...**

* * *

Undeserved

Prologue

"_Death comes swiftly, to those who do not want it"_

Salvatore Maroni pushed his side of the car-door open, screaming in agony. The car-door, itself, fell off its hinges and fell flatly against the ground. Maroni pushed his way out of the wrecked vehicle, bringing a broken left-arm and few ribs, with him. He screamed again, but this time, he ignored his pain and looked around.

It was night. Stars lined the sky and the moon was a mere sliver in the clouding darkness. All around Maroni was darkness, besides a nearby street lamp, that was all the light he had.

"Fuck!" Maroni cursed from the pain and his predicament, "Fuck you, Dent!" he said through clenched teeth, he then smiled, "You and your little friends, are gonna pay!" he laughed picturing all the glorious ways he was gonna kill that son of a bitch. His thoughts were quickly interrupted by the sounds of _spurs._

'_Fucking spurs? Are you serious…?' _Maroni thought to himself. He knew the sound, all those corny cowboy movies he watched when he was kid. Maroni looked around for the noise and saw what he was looking for.

A man leaning on the upturned car Maroni crashed in. He was dressed in complete black. A cowboy hat resting on his head, while a large overcoat covered a black button-up shirt, the shirt was tucked inside the black, loose-fitting, jeans. But what startled Maroni was his boots, black cowboy boots, with metallic spurs jutting out the back of them. He wore a brown leather holster, a six-shooting revolver nestled smugly inside it. Just like in the "corny" movies.

The man's face was hidden under the darkness of his hat and night. He pulled out a cigarette and lighter. Inserting the cigarette into his mouth and lighting it, he took a long drag, illuminating his face for only a split second.

"You got one more?" Maroni asked dumbfounded. The man sat up straight and walked forward and crouched in front of him. He flicked his cigarette away and he pulled out another and placed it in Maroni's mouth, "You got a light?" Maroni asked but was startled as the man stood up and placed his boot on his aching chest. The pain the man caused Maroni's cigarette to fall out of his mouth. Maroni looked closer at the man's face. His vision now used to the surrounding darkness.

"Don't I know you?" Maroni asked but his questioned was ignored as the man placed a black bandana over the lower half of his face. It was lined with white tribal markings, Maroni didn't understand.

Still ignoring Maroni's question the man drew the revolver from its holster. He cocked the hammer back and pointed it at Maroni's face. "To hell with you!" was all Maroni said before the man pulled the trigger…


	2. The Trial

Undeserved

Chapter 1

The Trial

_Three months later…_

"This isn't gonna hold up, Jason…"

"What do you mean, 'it isn't gonna hold up?'" Jason Roman, Gotham's "newly" appointed D.A. said to his much too "hopeful" female assistant. Jason was a tall man and muscular one too. He was bald and had aggressive face. One would have never guessed him as a lawyer…

"No matter what, Ashley," Jason said stopping his assistant, Ashley, so he may talk to her clearly, "she goes to Arkham or she dies." Jason cracked his neck and continued to walk with his assistant to the courtroom.

Jason was just as enthusiastic and determined as Dent was, although slightly unpopular. For his nearly three months spent in office he had yet to lock-up one criminal. But he had his set on just one, at the moment…

Harleen Quinzel, A.K.A. Harley Quinn, a psychotic and delusional woman, with absolutely no regard for human life. Falling into a child-like state, developing an insane attitude, and fell, miraculously, in love with, Gotham's Number One Criminal, _the Joker._

A "ridiculous," aptly named by Gotham's own citizens, had struck, trying to determine whether or not Harley Quinn was, indeed, insane. And now the trial has outraged the people of Gotham that the trial had lasted more than a few months.

"Yes, but…" Ashley attempted to say.

"No, 'buts,'" Jason interrupted her, "Ashley, it's best to take care of _this _now, with what little reputation _I _have left…" With that Jason cracked his neck once more and slammed open the doors to the courtroom doors, where dozens of witnesses were waiting. Including ten jury members, the judge, and Harley Quinn, herself, sat waiting…

"What took you so long?" Harley giggled to herself as she smacked loudly on her gum. Her long blonde hair done up in pigtails and she wore a white jumpsuit. She watched as the "useless" District Attorney, Jason made his way to the stand.

"Sorry, I'm late, ladies and gentlemen," Jason said as he sat at a long desk provided for him. Ashley, his assistant, hurried after him and quickly sat down next to him, her face red with embarrassment.

Judge Michael Aires, looked down at Jason through his glasses, "Yes…" he said nonchalantly, "Now that _you _are here, we can begin…" With that the trial began.

_Sometime Later…_

"Mr. Gate, you may proceed with your case," Judge Aires said to lawyer opposing Jason. Deeken Gate, a lawyer that seemed to appear out of nowhere, was hell-bent on sending Harley to Arkham. He was short, but had a stocky build, his hair was a dark brown and long, scraggly, unkempt beard covered his face. He seemed new to _this_, he constantly made mistakes and talked out of turn. But his records say he had at least three years experience. Jason even checked…

"Thank you, judge," Gate said standing up and straightening his tie. He walked over to Quinn and was about to ask her a question when he stopped himself. Everyone laughed at the spectacle.

Harley Quinn was shaking and spinning her head in certain way, so that her pigtails seemed like helicopter blades rotating in between each other.

"I rest my case…" Gate smiled and turned to return his seat, when Jason jerked up…

"Objection: He can't possibly name her insane for her to just…" he stopped, trying to find the right words "act… strange…"

"Point taken… Mr. Gate… _your _point?" the judge said leaning back, obviously bored of the trial.

Gate smiled and nodded, "Ms. Quinn!" Harley jerked her head up.

"What?" she asked annoyed.

"Do you believe you are criminal?" Gate asked his smile still plastered on his face.

"I do…" Quinn said, raising a questioning eyebrow. _Where are you taking this…?_ She thought to herself.

"Do you believe you are insane?" Gate asked his face suddenly turning serious. Harley's face, however, was that of sudden shock, as was the audience, and Jason's. "My opponent has proved, my client, a criminal…" Gate called turning to the audience, "but he has also proved for her to be, legally, insane."

"Objection!" Jason yelled again.

"Sustained, Gate, please, continue…" the judge interrupted.

"Yes, she has done numerous crimes, as Jason said, 'Arson, Destruction of Government Property, Murder, Grand Theft Auto,' and these are only a few things she has done…" Gate had thrown himself into a speech, which seemed to hypnotize the audience and the jury.

"It has also had been said, that, my client, is, indeed, insane… And I highly believe that _fact_," he emphasized the word, "The only reason she did these crimes, is because someone told her to."

_How can _he _possibly know?_ Jason thought angrily to himself.

"That someone, ladies and gentlemen, is the Joker…" the crowd gasped at the mere mention of his name. "He bent and twisted Harley's mind, until, eventually, it snapped! Causing a very deep dependence or reliance, if you will, to come forth and take shape as the Joker…" Jason fell back into his seat, clutching furiously at his armrests.

"But we can help her you know… put her Arkham and have her freed in due time and she'll actually be a person who can help and achieve…"

"Yes, very good speech, Gate, but your point? What does that have to do with her mental issues? How do you know she is insane?" The judge asked, interrupting once again.

"Because, Judge Aires…" Gate said turning to the man and placing a paper on Aires' stand, which he had pulled the paper from his coat pocket.

"I had an Arkham Doctor to prove it this morning…"

* * *

Harley Quinn smiled gleefully as four officers dragged her down the stone steps of courthouse and shoved her, violently, into the back of a white van. The white van was labeled, _Arkham._

Jason stood atop the stairs, glaring violently at the van as it sped away. Gate pushed his way, ruefully, through the hungry pack of reporters, swarming him as he walked out. "No comment!" he yelled as he got to his car. An unlikely one, as it seemed. He drove a pure black Mustang GT. He opened the driver's side, threw his briefcase inside, and slammed the door behind him as he climbed inside.

As soon as the door was closed, Deeken "Dee" Gate ripped his fake beard off and started the car, slammed it into drive, and sped off. He started to unbutton his coat, causing his car to swerve wildly. He threw the coat off as soon as it was unbuttoned. He flipped his AC on _High_ and sighed as the cool air blasted his face.

"God… how can lawyers where that shit…" he sighed again and looked up at the road. A large smiled crept onto his face…

Everything was going perfectly. Joker and Harley were now in Arkham… Dent was dead… The bat was faltering under the pressure… Croc did his job well… and The Mob was falling to pieces…

Soon enough, Gotham was going to take brutal way, straight to hell… All it needed was one… more… fall…


	3. Thoughts

Undeserved

Chapter 2

Thoughts

"Perhaps, it's best time for some rest?" Alfred asked staring at Bruce, who was glaring at the TV.

"Rest? What Rest?" Bruce said silently. Alfred turned to the TV and watched the new report Bruce had been watching, the one about Quinn, which had been replayed over and over… and over. Alfred sighed and snatched the remote from Bruce's hands. Turning off the TV, Alfred turned on Bruce.

"Sir, it well past three AM and I insist-" Alfred stopped when he noticed Bruce was already out. Alfred laughed at himself, "Perhaps, it is, best time for some rest…"

Alfred walked down the humongous, marble staircase of the newly renovated Wayne Manor. He sniffed the air around him, that "newly restored smell" surrounded him. Kind of like the "new car smell." It would always bear with Alfred. But one thing he couldn't stand was having this huge of house and no one being in it other than himself. It got rather lonely spending hours worrying whether your "son" returned, dead or alive.

Alfred opened one of the many cupboards in the massive kitchen which no one attended. He pulled a small bottle of whiskey from the cupboard, twisted its cap off, and poured it into a shot glass. Screwing back on the cap and placing the bottle to the side, Alfred titled his head back and took the shot.

Alfred shook himself vigorously, trying to shake off the drink. "Yuck…" he said having not tasting the beverage for _quite some time…_

Although, Alfred was relieved of the burden of fretting, since Bruce "took some time off," it was all "quiet" in Gotham. The Trial seemed to have shut up Gotham up completely, no matter how much rage it brought. Businesses, crimes, and political structure seemed to have shut down, as if the fate of the trial rested on what was going to happen to next.

It certainly lifted the pressure off Bruce, and Alfred, as well. No crime, no Batman. But now that it was over. _What's gonna happen next? _Alfred thought to himself. Crime will explode… Gotham was going through its worst time _ever._ Even, seemingly, worse, than _pre_-Batman.

The Arkham Incident was enough. The Joker blasted everything out of control. Anything, afterwards, killed what hope was left for Gotham. It didn't matter how many street-thugs were locked up. It didn't matter how many buildings were blown up. It didn't matter how many people were killed or fell to the arms of insanity.

It was one thing to create anarchy, then, pure and utterly, uncontrollable _chaos…_

"The Joker won after all…"

* * *

To be on the other side of the glass wall, was something new. To be interviewed, then to be the interviewer, was something new. To be mistreated, beaten, and felt-up by those sick perverted guards, was something new.

_I'll kill 'em! I'll kill all of them! Fuck 'em! They all deserve to get what's coming to 'em! Whatever… that's… coming… to them…_

Was this it? Though? A heavily secured door? A bullet proof glass wall? A tiny bench to sleep on? _I thought they were supposed to help me… NOT! Give me back problems!_

* * *

_Glad to be back… Ever so happy to be back… No… Not really…_ He'll only be there until, he got bored or someone _crazy _enough busted him out. But he could stay here a while, though. _Hell, Gotham hardly needs me anymore!_ It seemed to cause more problems to itself, than others.

Why did Arkham have to be so filthy? _Besides, I thought this was to be a "madhouse." Aren't there suppose to be padded walls_?_ After all, I don't want to _hurt _myself._

_Sooner or later, it'd have to come to that… but for now… Sit back, relax, Gotham, tonight and, maybe, tomorrow, you're free …_

* * *

Darkness, complete darkness, chains, cold and unbreakable, hungry, starving and impatient, guess, he's supposed to stay down there and die slowly.

* * *

No mask. No dignity. No right, straightjackets and padded walls. _Is this what I'm reduced to?_ His hands weren't free, so he couldn't work. His door was closed, so he couldn't walk. His mind was open, so he could think whatever he liked.

_Soon… Soon… Soon…_

Soon it would begin. The bat _will _get _his…_

* * *

_Timid and shy, the ideal patient! But I'm not insane… Didn't they run out of room in county?_ _Boy, I certainly hope not… When are they gonna see, though? I'll make 'em see… I ain't crazy…_

_The hell, you're not… _

_W-who are you?_

_Stutterin' in yo' thoughts? Ha! Pathetic…_

_Don't you make fun of me!_

_Who's gonna stop me? Chunky, four-eyes?_

_Stop!_

_Listen! You little shit! This is how it's gonna roll, see… I'm takin' over and there ain't nothin' you can do… Got it?_

_I don't-_

_SHUT THE _FUCK_ UP! GOT IT?_

…

_Good… Gotham is gonna get one helluva surprise when you n' me break out!_

* * *

If it got Alfred off his back, he'd be all set for the night. Sure, he'd check in on him sooner or later… But he's used to it… isn't he? He should be…

_But what if he wasn't?_

It wouldn't be the best to leave without so much as saying, "I'll be out…" But what could he do. Chances are he had one of the most difficult jobs in the world. He had to do it. If not who else would…

_Who else would…_

What irony! What he spent the last hour thinking about had backfired and hit straight in the face! The man who has been sending him "love letters." But what he did was different… instead of stopping the criminal and locking him up.

_He killed them…_

What he did was wrong and completely uncalled for! What right… did he… again, irony struck… another outlaw just like him? Killing off Joker's _entire _crew, then killing three more of Gotham's top murders and rapists.

_Is it the best to think about this? Probably not._

But from what he had gathered had revealed little about the, _other, _vigilante. He picked off a note from Gordon and three more the corpses of the other victims. All saying the same thing, _They're Wrong…_ and all addressed to him, they all bore his insignia in the left-hand corner. The only clue he could gather, was, that he at the upper right-hand corner of the note it had a letter, all written in a tribal-ish fashion. So far, in order they said, _M-U-E-R._ So far, no matter what order, they didn't make any sense.

_Right now it doesn't matter…_

"Calling all units! Calling all units! Three armed robbers decided to try to rob _Gotham Financial. _Converge at once! Repeat-" He smiled and blasted away on his Batpod, without bothering to think about anything else. Something's are more important than letters…

* * *

**A/N: Let's play the naming GAME!**


	4. Wayne

Undeserved

Chapter 3

Wayne

_Wayne Enterprises,_ easily the largest company residing in Gotham, run by, none other than, its namesake, Bruce Wayne.

_Is this what peace is?_ Bruce thought staring out the large plate, window that made up an entire wall in his office. The office wasn't that great of importance, matter of fact, Bruce was hardly ever there. He was more than likely to be "down stairs", talking to Lucius.

Gotham had underwent, somewhat, of peace the last three months. The city just seemed to calm suddenly down since every _large _threat was locked up in Arkham or dead. Sure, minor crimes were being committed, but nothing that GPD couldn't handle, matter of fact they were cleaning up more than Batman was, at the moment.

_Batman_, the one thing Bruce couldn't get out of his head. With crime falling to that of a small-town, what was the Dark Knight of use to? _Of no use, at the moment_, Bruce thought, he had this gut-feeling, _Things were just getting started_, someone, plotting some scheme, right under his nose.

But right now, Gotham had no need for Batman. Bruce sighed and turned to his desk. Sitting down he placed his face into his hands, thoughts churning over in his mind. There was nothing he could do, except, what he does, secondly, best, be a business man.

A loud beep, from Bruce's office phone, made him jump, _"Mister Wayne, Lucius Fox, would like to see you." _Bruce's secretary said through the phone hook. Bruce pressed a button on the phone, "Thanks," he replied back and fell back into his seat and sighed. He then stood up and left his office.

* * *

"What is it Lucius?" Bruce asked shutting Lucius' own office door behind him.

"Well, good morning to you too, Mister Wayne," Lucius said smiling.

"Uh, sorry, good morning, what is this about?" Bruce asked again.

"Straight to the point, I see," Lucius said back, standing up. He went to a bookshelf, located right next to his desk and pulled a certain book and the bookshelf opened inwards, revealing a small passage way. Lucius ducked inside. Bruce smiled, knowing best to follow he walked up to the bookshelf and ducked inside, as well, the shelf closing behind him.

Lucius and Wayne clambered into an elevator, Lucius pressed a button inside the elevator, with the doors closing, and the elevator jerked and began to descend. After a short moment of silence, Lucius spoke up, "Usually, when I say, _'Not to blow it up,'_ I mean it."

"It wasn't my fault," Bruce smiled and looked down at the floor.

"Right, let's see, you blew up the first Tumbler, crashed the Batpod," Lucius said using his fingers to count the number of times he crashed a vehicle, "and then you take the liberty of blowing up the second Tumbler! I beginning to think someone should revoke your driving license, Mister Wayne," Lucius sighed, "these things aren't cheap, you know?"

Bruce nodded, "Yes, I know, but it's nothing I can't afford."

Lucius grunted, "Like you'd to pay for the blood and sweat, I used to get you those things."

"Didn't know you could pay for blood and sweat," Bruce said laughing.

"It's not a joke, Mister Wayne," Lucius said, bearing a serious face. Bruce's face suddenly went into a look of surprise, before Lucius burst out laughing, it wasn't long, before Wayne joined in too. As the two still laughed the elevator doors opened and they both stumbled out.

"Oh," Lucius said, calming down, and placing his arm on Bruce's shoulder, "Come, I have something to show you."

Bruce quickly straightened up, now curious at what, Lucius Fox, had in store. Lucius removed his arm and pulled a key from his coat pocket and slid it into the door knob of a large door. With a _click _the door unlocked and Lucius pushed it in. The room was completely dark inside yet Lucius stepped inside anyways, where Bruce lost him to the dark. Bruce, hesitant at first, but of course, this was Lucius. Inhaling, Bruce quickly stepped inside.

The door slammed behind Bruce, causing the room to become completely dark, making it impossible to see. With another _click _lights flooded the dark room. The room was painted grey, the paint on the wall cracking and peeling, the floor had numerous cracks and tiles missing. But at the center of the room, a humongous white tarp covered up something even larger under it.

"What's all this?" Bruce asked, inserting his hands into his pockets.

"Just a prototype," was all Lucius said as he ripped the tarp off the object underneath it.

Bruce was taken aback, he opened his mouth but no words came out. Until, finally, he said, "Wow…"

* * *

District Attorney Jason Roman stood in his office, smoking a large cigar, and staring out his large window, opening out to Gotham City.

"What _filth…_" he said taking a drag on his cigar, when there was knock at his door, "Enter!" he called and as he still stared out the window.

"Mr. Roman?" someone asked. A voice the D.A. didn't recognize. He turned and looked at the man standing in his doorway. The man closed the door behind him and stood straight. The man wore a black suit jacket, pressed, clean, a white button-up shirt laid underneath it, and he also wore black dress pants. His hair was a light-brown, slicked back. But most interesting was, his eyes, colored steel-grey, they pierced at the D.A. even in the darkness of his office.

"Who are you?" Jason asked, sitting down at his desk and noticing a folder was held tightly in the man's hand.

"Professor Basil K. Karlo, at your service!" the man said bowing and straightened up with large smile on his face.

"What're you here for?" Jason asked becoming cautious as he silently opened one of desk drawers and wrapped his hand around a pistol concealed inside. His other gripping the cigar tightly, weary of the situation.

"Business," Karlo said holding the folder next to his head, he walked forward threw it on Jason's desk. Jason still cautious, removed his hand from the pistol and picked up the folder, opened it, and read it contents.

Jason made sure to glance up at Karlo every now and again to make sure he didn't do anything "stupid," all he did was stand there, smirking. But it wasn't until later on, did Jason became extremely interested in the papers inside the folder. When he was done, Jason closed the folder and slowly put it on his desk.

"Will this work…?" Jason asked peering at Karlo with interested eyes.

"Of course…" Karlo said leaning forward and placing his hands on the desk, "It's already been signed by the mayor…" Karlo said his smirk, becoming a grin.

"Then what do you need me for?" Jason asked curiously.

"Well, legal authorization and, well, _help_…"

"Help, With what?" Jason asked surprised, "Seems to me you already have the entire city on your side."

"Yeah, well, I seem to be on the spot for cash… and I doubt the taxpayers would like it, if we spent all of their hard earned money on _this_," Karlo said pointing to the folder.

"Really?" Jason put his cigar in an ashtray and linked his hands; he bowed his head in thought, and said "You need a funder?"

Karlo just nodded.

"Who?" Jason asked, drawing a blank.

Karlo laughed and he stopped his smile stretched even farther, if that was possible, and he said:

"_Bruce Wayne…_"

* * *

Night had enveloped Gotham and it began to rain. Gotham was feeling the water's wrath for the past month now, for the rain seemed to be trying to take over Gotham by storm. Even, _Wayne Manor_, newly renovated, felt the harsh precipitation.

But it did not bother Bruce in the slightest. He stared out his favorite window, the one he watched the funeral goers leave from his parent's funeral.

_Wayne Manor_ was completely the same down to the _very _last detail, the same hallways, rooms, furniture, lawns, and even _the cave_. Which Bruce had to renovate, himself.

"I feel useless, Alfred," he said to his butler, that had worked for his parents. He stood in the doorway waiting patiently for Bruce's call.

"Is this not what you wanted, sir?" Alfred asked, speaking to Bruce as he still stared out the window, "To fight crime? And rid of Gotham's Civil War?"

Bruce turned away from the window and looked at Alfred.

Alfred walked forward and stood in front of Bruce, placing his hands on Bruce's shoulders.

"It is, isn't?" Alfred asked again, but Bruce remained silent, "Bruce," Alfred said the name only when he wanted to get a point across, "Let the Gotham's Police Force do, what they do best. If crime ever gets to high you'll be there to knock it back."

Bruce, still, remained silent.

"When the criminals get the idea to come back and pass the Police' line, and then they'd have you waiting for them." Alfred paused, waiting for a reply; he received none and continued anyways "There will be times for the Batman and times of peace. Now, is that time for peace," Alfred smiled, "And it's best to enjoy it…"

Bruce smiled back, and simply said, "I'm going out…"


	5. The Return

Undeserved

Chapter 4

The Return

Another night of peace, they came in one right after the other. The calm was more than welcome, by Gotham and its peoples. But no one was relieved of the stress of past events then the Dark Knight himself. Yet another night of peace, he began enjoying them…

No more running.

No more fighting.

No more pain…

The night was still his. That never changed. Instead of the cowl, his shoes. Instead of the strain of his senses, the calm, relaxation, consumed him, although he was still, very much, alert. Instead of running, simple walking.

The cool, clean night has always been his element. It was no time like another, the perfect blend of dark dots of small light scattering the sky. Instead of the constant beating of day and its ceaseless, harshness of its high rising light. It consumed most of the time of the night's few short hours. Hogging the entire day all to itself, refusing to share it with its dark brother. Until, it falls, from its, so-called, 'glory' plastered by the word of ignorance.

But Night was not always the cool, calm. It could be as cruel and harsh as the day. It brings everyone's true nature, crawling to the surface. Hidden in the dark for whoever dares to try and find it.

But that is why he is here. To pound those creatures back into submission, where they'll stay, locked away, never to return. The same could be said for thousands. There was no one he couldn't beat. Except for one, _Him…_

His endless smile will always be a scourge to the world…

Always taunting…

He never stopped. He would let his monster run wild. Never to be chained or held back…

Always scheming…

The day was his night and the night never changed for him. Always the same. Nothing changed…

Always killing…

He. Would. Never. Stop.

* * *

Bruce slammed the door to his newly-repaired home. He took off his coat, shaking the slight drizzle of rain from it. He hung the coat and turned to admire his home. He was all too glad to see it restored. But something about it tonight felt, _Off…_

_No Alfred, _Bruce thought, scanning the main hall for his life-long friend and butler. Bruce knew Alfred would greet him at the door every time he would return from his late-night walks.

* * *

"About bloody time you made it back," Alfred said as he took Bruce's coat as he walked in through the door to Wayne Manor.

"Sorry, Alfred, beautiful night," Bruce said, justifying his delay.

"Right, when I said enjoy the peace and quiet, I didn't mean for you to keep going out at night! I thought you would actually get some sleep this bloody time around! Instead, I continue to have to wake you up far into the day. And I must say, it's becoming a bother collecting you at two in the afternoon…"

"Sorry, Alfred, I'll be sure to be home by one next time," Bruce said passing his butler and climbing the main flight of stairs to his room.

"Twelve!" Alfred called after him.

"Twelve-Thirty!" Bruce called behind him, still scaling the stairs.

"Deal," Alfred said as he hung up Bruce's coat and turned to head off to his own bed.

* * *

Bruce had returned right on schedule and decided to search for his friend. He walked up the main flight of stairs to the second floor which consisted most of living areas. It was _not _natural for Alfred to not greet Bruce. Before his thoughts could stray where his butler might be, he heard the buzz of a television coming from one of the living-rooms. Bruce slowly walked in the direction of the buzz, his long years of training told him to perceive _every_ noise as a possible threat, even when in the safety of his home.

He reached the door to the living area, the door standing slightly ajar, beckoning to be opened. Bruce peered inside and smiled when he saw Alfred, his back to the door, staring down at the large plasma screen TV.

Bruce opened the door and walked inside the room, ready to surprise his friend, but he stopped when Alfred faced him. The butler's face was grim and pale, as if had a seen a dark, terrible event. Bruce's own face turned stern and he walked quickly to the TV. He gazed down at the flat-screen and couldn't help a gasp slip pass his lips as he witnessed the transpiring event unfold on the plasma…

* * *

The new Investigative-Reporter Haley White stood the center of attention on the screen. Or so she thought.

The words printed under her, in-bold, were graced with the spotlight. The words will be torched into Bruce's mind:

"_ARKHAM IN FLAMES!"_

And behind the reporter was the very legendary asylum, explosions erupting at the most random moments and areas. As the carnage behind her continued, the reporter spoke, "Witnesses say that several explosions erupted all around Arkham Island almost simultaneously, approximately, at Twelve-Seventeen AM!" she had been trying to yell over the destruction but couldn't help but instinctively duck as an explosion erupted on her side of the island, although she was more than a safe distance away on the other side of Gotham Bay.

"And already Arkham Inmates have managed to take hold of the island," Haley yelled, continuing, vainly to finish her story, "and now they push against the GCPD in attempt to escape the island!" she stopped and pressed her finger to her ear where a device was to relay to her important information.

"What?" Haley yelled as more explosions took their sound to the air, "I can't fucking hear you!" she yelled again, her eyes grew with the news being fed into her ear. "This just fucking in, ladies and gentlemen!" she yelled to the camera, not caring she was swearing on live TV, "We have news that one of our own cameramen, now, bravely risks his life, to bring us live footage from _ON _the island! We go to him now!"

* * *

The screen went black for a few seconds…

Shortly after the blackness, the screen flickered to the visage of a man staring at his feet. His labored breathing could be heard, but he spoke, "What?" he asked, the camera sight, he was holding, twitched as if it were speaking to a second person.

"Wait, What? No! _NO!_ Fuck you!" there was a moment's pause and then the man spoke again, "Okay! Fine!" an earpiece fell to the man's feet, "Fucking bitch…" he muttered. He then grunted as the camera's sight was raised up and it could see that the man holding it was hiding behind a building.

The man slowly crept forward and even more slowly turned the camera around the buildings corner: There was a huge burning tree, hanging from the tree though was a small man, and it looked, somewhat, like a… _Puppet?_ Before the camera could take a closer look an inmate ran forward and cut the puppet down and ran off.

But that was trifle as the shadows the flaming tree had cast on a nearby building. Shadows of men were clawing and scratching at their skin, screaming their lungs out as the shadows twisted and churned around the building. Then for a moment, only a moment, another shadow appeared, it was the visage of a… _Scarecrow…_

The man cursed and ran behind the building once more. This time he walked to the other corner of the corner and slowly turned the corner. There was roar, no that of a car coming to life but something… _Monstrous… _afterwards there was a massive _splash!_

"Holy shit!" the man said darting the camera to the rippling water of Gotham Bay as if something had fallen in, "What was that…?" The man asked himself but before he could answer that, an explosion erupted nearby.

"No!" the man yelled and he ran forward but tripped, dropping the camera in the process. There was a glimpse of his hand as he reached for the camera and hoisted it up once more. He then ran for cover behind a nearby tree. He took a moment's respite the turned around the tree letting the camera take in the sight around him.

Far off into the distance, there was massive bonfire being danced and cheered around by countless Arkham Inmates in front of the bonfire was stack of dead bodies consisting of orderlies and Arkham Guards alike. Standing on the pile of bodies, however, was an Arkham Inmate. Splotches of green dye were located throughout his long dark brown hair. His face painted white, with black covering heavily around his eyes, and his lips were a ruby-red and extended upwards covering scars, forcing him into an endless smile. It need not do so as he smiled proudly, screaming words of encouragement to the inmates. It was him… _The Joker…_

For a while the camera took in the sight, but was violently interrupted by a sudden, "Hello!" The camera lurched in the directions of the noise. Another inmate stared at the man and his camera, smiling broadly. It was a woman, wearing a very large amount white make-up around her face and neck. Her face painted in similar fashion to that of the Joker, but with her own little twist: Her left eye was covered by a diamond made up of black make-up and her right eye was covered in a black make-up heart. Red lipstick complimented her smile, but she went overboard as the lipstick left her lips and pulled upwards onto her cheeks in a forced lipstick smile. Black diamonds, side-by-side, were painted around her neck, as if it were a collar.

The camera trembled as the man stepped back. He knew _exactly _who this was… _Harley Quinn_…

Harley frowned and cocked her eyebrow, "What are you doing here?" she asked but the man continued to step back, "Aw! No answer?" Harley asked as she smiled coyly, "No matter!" she laughed as she sprang towards the camera. The camera fell to the ground and fell pointing towards a wall. The man screamed but it was cut short by a loud gurgle. A few short moments later the man's face fell into view of the camera. Blood flowed freely from his mouth as large piece of glass stuck out from his neck. His eyes were wide as they stared deep into the camera. Harley could be heard giggling as the man's face was dragged from view…

* * *

The TV was turned off. Bruce looked to Alfred, who was still as grim-faced as ever. He was holding the remote and Bruce knew that his friend had seen enough.

Alfred spoke: "I suppose it is time that we see the return of the Dark Knight now?"

"Alfred, I—" but Bruce was interrupted.

Alfred unexpectedly smiled and wiggled his eyebrows, "Good!" he said, turning to leave, "I'll go ready the batpod!"


	6. Letters

Undeserved

Chapter 5

Letters

Batman stared out across Gotham Bay. He stood silently on a several-story building over-looking the Bay and the ill-fated, _Narrows. _The scene unfolding at the Narrows seemed even more chaotic in person. _Arkham Asylum _was still, occasionally, letting off the _boom _of an explosion. But roaring fires spread to the already beaten-down buildings surrounding the Asylum. GCPD had their hands full trying to keep the peace and douse the fires. Meanwhile, the _Arkham_ guards were all rendered useless, as the inmates easily overran them and began taking the Asylum. Batman grimaced, his thoughts filling with how stupid he's been. _Why hadn't he prepared for this? Why had he decided to waste time, instead of doing something useful? Why had he…?_

Batman shook these thoughts from his head. How it happened didn't matter anymore. He now had to figure how to stop it, before the plague of _Arkham Asylum Inmates_ spread into Gotham. But there was something off, about the inmates. They stayed in the confines of the asylum. None of them really attempted to _truly _escape the Asylum. _They're waiting for something…_ And soon as those gates fell, all hell would break loose.

_I _won't _let that happen…_ Batman thought bitterly as he jumped from the building he had been observing the Narrows from and began to glide, the common, harsh wind from the bay carried him skillfully towards the chaos.

"Alfred," Batman said talking into the com-link, installed inside his cowl.

"_Yes, Master Wayne?"_ Alfred's voice buzzed inside the Dark Knight's ear.

"I need you to get a hold of Gordon. Knowing him; he's probably on the front lines, trying to keep the peace."

"_Right away, sir,_" there was some static as Alfred's voice disappeared.

"_Hello?"_ another, irritable, voice asked curiously, in the background noise of the com, men were yelling as explosions echoed into Batman's ear.

"We need to talk," Batman growled, his voice was now deep and dark, he was no longer Bruce Wayne, and the Dark Knight was now in full control.

"_Where?"_ the voice asked growing serious, oblivious to the chaos happening around it. Batman touched down at the only bride leading out of the Narrows, labeled _EXIT C, _it was the only bridge left, leading to and off the island. The explosions were becoming less numerous but seem to echo even louder than they had been a few short moments ago.

"_EXIT C_, on top of _Lester's Apartments,"_ Batman said looking at the apartment building closest to the, now, raised bridge to Gotham City. The voice on the other line hung up. Batman shutdown his com and pulled out his grappling hook and shoot it upwards to the rooftop of the building, the grapple caught and almost immediately launched him towards the top…

* * *

The Dark Knight stood, watching, _Arkham Asylum_. The explosions had receded, but the flames lived on as they consumed the asylum. He had been waiting patiently for almost ten minutes before someone busted onto the rooftop. Batman turned, it was Commissioner James Gordon.

Panting heavily he glared at Batman. His looks had been that of the man who had gotten dressed in a serious rush. His shirt was only buttoned up three-fourths of the way, revealing some of his chest. It was partially tucked into pants, but stopped abruptly as if someone had second thoughts of tucking it in. His pants were disheveled and unkempt as if they've been worn for days. His belt had been buckled in a hurry as it missed some of the belt loops. Only one of his shoes had been tied properly and his hair was complete mess, even his mustache seemed bristled. Just his coat and his glasses seemed remotely straight and ready to go.

"_You!"_ Gordon seethed, pointing an accusing finger at Batman, "Where the _hell _have you've been?" Gordon's eyes bulged as he gestured at the pandemonium unfolding behind Batman. "_Arkham Guards _is all the help we had! Fat load of good that did!" Gordon yelled as he began stalking towards the Dark Knight. I had to exercise everything in my power to keep any inmate on the island, I'm afraid _that _failed as well!"

"Gordon…" Batman started, but he was quickly interrupted.

"_SHUT UP! _It's not just _Arkham _that you left me on my own on! The mob's been hell too! With all the major bosses locked-up or _dead_, lackeys and thugs have been picking sides! It's gonna be _war_, Batman! And where were _you _during all this? Sitting on your ass, no doubt! _Everything's _piling up! Leading to _this!_ I figured you'd be on the front lines, ready to counter this! But nope! You _just_ found out didn't you? I hope—"

"_Gordon!_" Batman roared his expression now dark and impatient, "Do you really think screaming in _my face_, is _really _going to do _anything to help?"_

Gordon was taken, completely, aback, for one long moment, which seemed to take hours, the two merely stared. Gordon then sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Batman could tell his unconventional-partner was overwhelmed with stress. The last thing Batman wanted to do was alienate his ally.

"It's not just that, is it, Gordon?" Batman asked in soft tone. Gordon sighed and pushed his glasses up and looked his to own "unconventional" ally.

Gordon sighed again and looked down at the gravel, situated on the rooftop, "Not really," Gordon muttered silently, surprised he was confiding in the Dark Knight, "My daughter's is all but ready to leave us," Gordon chuckled, "Teenagers… Genius, though, I'll give he that much..."

"My son still needs therapy after what happened the night… The night that…" Gordon pulled his head back, trying valiantly to fight back the memories.

"And my wife," Gordon smiled, quickly finding that changing the subject would do him better, "She's hell-bent on proving that you're innocent, since you saved my boy. But what can she do?" Gordon asked rhetorically, "Dent's work is still in affect. The Truth would only create more problems."

"But she isn't the only one you know…" Gordon said eyeing Batman, "That guy who's been leaving you love letter's…" the commissioner opened his coat and lifted up a large envelope and handed it to the Dark Knight.

"We got sloppy, you know?" Gordon continued looking out at the destruction as Batman took the envelope and opened it, "He knows we're connected or he wouldn't have left me these on my doorstep, when I was on my way here. I think he knew what was going to happen..."

Batman lifted four pieces of paper from within the envelope and stared at them. The first two were the same: the common message, _"They're Wrong"_ was printed on them, while two new tribal-like letters "_T and E"_ adorned the upper-left-hand corner and his symbol was on the right-hand corner.

_Muerte?_ Batman thought as he stared down at the papers.

"The Spanish-word for: _Death,_" Gordon said, reading the bat's mind as he still looked out to the burning asylum. Batman looked up at the commissioner then returned his gaze to the papers. He put the first two back into the envelope and quickly scanned the third paper; this time it was an _actual _letter.

His insignia was installed at the top, onward, printed in well-written pen, was a small paragraph of words:

"_Sorry, about this," _the note read, "_I meant to give you these later, but as you can probably tell by now, there's no point in waiting anymore. However, you deserve to know anyway. They'll break free, soon enough. There's no point in denying it. Gordon's men _will not _last forever. He knows it himself. They'll get into the city. There's nothing there to keep on them on leash. They'll spread. Most of them are targeting you. They're not going to wait. Mayhem will rule Gotham tonight. They know it's going to get you come running. They're an army. You're one man. Gordon's only got a handful compared to the inmates._

_You're going to need help…_

_-A"_

"His confidence in me is overwhelming," Gordon said sarcastically as Batman finished the note, "look at the fourth one…" Batman put the third paper back inside the envelope and stared down at the last piece of paper.

It was an art picture, quickly drawn in black ink. At first, it looked like a blob of ink, but at a closer inspection it formed into a black cloaked figure. Angelic wings were painted behind the figure and it had held a scythe.

"_The Angel of _Death_?" _Gordon questioned, adding emphasis on _"Death,"_ as he stared inquisitively at Batman.

"No," said Batman, placing the paper within its container and pocketing it, "It's only a title…" the Dark Knight said silently, he, too, staring out at _Arkham_. Batman racked his brain for possible explanations for the "_Angel's"_ identity. _It starts with an 'A',_ he thought but he was interrupted by Gordon, forcing his mind back at the task on hand.

"Never mind that, now," he said, reading his mind again "What are we gonna do, until, _then?"_

The Dark Knight bowed his head in thought and then looked back to the blaze.

"_I'm going in…"_


	7. Arkham Asylum

Undeserved

Chapter 6

Arkham Asylum

You want to know why I like cats. Because of their refusal to obey the laws set down by their domesticities master. Unlike their canine brethren, the feline is not at the beck and call of self-appointed masters. Their souls glow with a remarkable fire. Much like tonight.

The Fire rules tonight, guiding the free unhindered spirits. Cats are much like fire, wild, free, and… undying. They have the will and stubbornness to put their testimonies to test. It grants them the ability to thrive, live, and fight until there is but cinders and ash.

Fire began the universe and will end it. But… but, something new will always returns from the fading _ashes…_

* * *

No firemen tried to fight the flames. No one dared tried to douse the roaring fires as they continued to burn the already ruined form of _Arkham Asylum. _The explosions had subsided but the chaos perused outside. Inmates throwing _Molotov's_ refusing to let the asylum stop from burning. The enduring havoc was all but lost to a shadow's senses. It flew silently to the asylum, unnoticed by the inmates raging far down below. With a sudden rush, the shadow sped and smashed into unlit window…

Batman rolled inside the building to reduce the shock from his sudden freefall. He stood, dusting himself off of broken glass and debris. He took a look around at his surroundings taking in the sights. The power was shot and the only light apparent was the roaring fires outside shedding in their glare through the dark, grimy windows. The hallways were a mess as unconscious or _dead,_ _Arkham Guards_ were strewn throughout the hallway, lying amongst debris, broken shackles, and torn straightjackets. The guards long hours of training to keep the inmates at bay, was proven useless as they were attacked from the inside and barrages of fire erupting from the outside.

The Dark Knight grimaced sorrowfully at the guards. There was nothing he could do for them. But right now that didn't matter. Gordon's men were only just keeping the inmates at bay. He had to move fast, he had to discover what happened here and who or _what _was behind it.

_The security footage…_ Batman thought silently as he began to stalk the hallways to the _Security Wing_. Meanwhile, his thoughts were beginning to flood with questions. _Who had released the inmates…?_ The Joker had the greatest MO but he was securely locked up. _Hopefully…_ But who had been crazy enough to set free the inmates? And what was the point of such chaos? _The Mob…_ but that didn't make any sense either. What kind of city in pandemonium would be of any good to them? _No… but maybe a distraction…?_ The only reason any man would release an army of crazed individuals that would benefit him in the long run, but was robbing a bank worth an _entire _city in peril. _But then what…?_

Such thoughts had to be stalled and mind returned to the task. As Batman was scanning his thoughts for a solution to the currently wild events, his body was shifted into autopilot as it guided itself to the _Security Wing _and positioned itself in front of the main _Video Surveillance _hub. He attempted the doorknob, but of course… _Locked…_ Batman snarled as he kicked in the door and walked inside the dark room.

The Dark Knight flipped on his night vision and his sight was filled with a sudden green aurora, illuminating the room around him. Without power the video screens were off and the security footage had stopped monitoring. Batman quickly scanned the room and located a fuse box, typical amongst large security offices.

Batman yanked up the small door and peered inside: All of the switches within were flipped to _On_, but still no power within the room. Batman reached to his belt and pulled free a small device and a portable screwdriver. With these, he had set to work; first, he loosened and pulled free the screws to get access to wiring behind the switches. Afterwards, he yanked some of the wires loose and began inserting them into the device's multiple outputs. When making sure the wires were secure and placed in their proper positions. Batman turned off his night vision and flicked a small switch on the device.

A few sparks flew free from the fuse box, the room remained dark. Then a sudden _clack _from the device, the lights in the room flickered on and the multitude of video screens were flashing countless black and white dots. Batman smiled inwardly at himself and made his way to the screens. He sat down at a desk chair and began typing away at the keyboard in front of the multiple screens.

The screens began to flicker more violently but eventually images reappeared upon them once again. Batman scanned the screens trying to find what he was looking for; he typed a few codes on the keyboard and the recorded camera footage began to rewind themselves. The footage continued to do so until Batman forced them to stop at _Twelve-Ten AM._ He scanned the screens more intently, the wording began to blur into each other.

_Floor 1, Corridor 12, Hallway C…_

_Floor 2, Corridor 9, Hallway A…_

_The Courtyard…_

_Parking Lot…_

_Main Entrance…_

_There! _Batman quickly thought as focused on the _Main Power _cam as massive dark figure trudged towards it. Its arms worked quickly and with a sudden flash all of the cameras went blank. Batman slammed his fist down in anger. It wasn't much to go on, but it was a start…

Before he could dwell on it, however, there was a loud, sudden _whirr _and his power device exploded in sparks. Batman peered behind him at the charred device and realized with a start that the power was still on. The video screens began flashing and stopped on heavily-painted, clown-face.

"You're here…" the face smiled, "I was beginning to think, 'Would you _ever _show?'" the face grinned wider.

"This ends _here,_ Joker…" Batman growled, naming the face while glaring at it with loathing.

The Joker frowned, "Really, Batsy! You can't _possibly _think _I _have _anything _to do with this!" he chuckled evilly and gave Batman a dark smile. Batman merely continued to glare, not caring if he had _anything _to do with it, he _will end it._

"Well, this is going nowhere," Joker muttered, "Come," he yelped excitedly, "There's a little _surprise _for you, locating itself in the Warden's Office! Quickly! Act now! This is a limited time offer! To collect your prize, dial-" Batman ignored the Joker and exited the office, leaving Joker to his madness.

_No doubt, it will be a trap… _Batman thought quickening his pace as the Joker's own voice echoed on through the intercoms placed throughout the corridors.

Batman slammed his fist through the glass fixated in the door to the Warden's Office. He unlocked the door from the inside, opened the door, and stepped into the room...

* * *

Batman quickly put his skills to work and began searching the wide adourned room. The inmates had already been here for papers, books, and files clattered around the floor. Only the desk resting in front of the giant fireplace was left untouched. _One place to start..._ Without a second glance the Dark Knight stood at the desk in a flash. The top of the desk was completely blank. Clrealy a new one from the hole driven within it to contain, Warden Michael Lawrence's eyes after having them gouged out by the peppy, but brutal, Harley Quinn. Batman quickly walked around the desk and began pulling free the unopened drawers. But this was found fruitless, as all of the cubbies were empty with no trace of the Joker's presence left. _Then what's the surprise...?_ Batman scanned the room for more evidence leaving the files on the floor at where they should be. Why bother to check them when they'd be cast aside so easily. Unless, overlooked...

Checking the room for the slightest crannie so that he may located any "surprise" that lurked for him, the Dark Knight not let his quick vision and senses fail him and continued to investigate the room. It's when he happened upon a new portrait of a man standing tall of the smoldering fire place did he locate the surprise. The man's face was quirkly distorted from an overdose of highly green paint covered his face. Especially, the general area of his lips for a big awning grin found its place upon it. Not wasting anytime that he did not have, Batman walked over to the painting. He removed the large painting with little to no ease and as it clambered to the ground, the Dark Knight beheld a massive safe, built in the wall for safe keeping another large grin with green paint splattered all among it. Batman climbed to the ledge on top of the ledge high above the fireplace and examined the safe. He noticed it was slightly open. Somebody had tampered with it. Who would have the skill to open such a large and unforgiving vault? No one amongst Joker's Goons.

Slowly, the Dark Knight opened the face as to make sure there was no sound and peered inside the iron block. From within he found a large red box and yellow tapered note resting on its side. Taking the note and slowly examining it Batman found nothing else inside the safe. The note had a very delicate handwriting the one of a ladie's soft brush but with a set of violent turns.

_Someone beat us to it! It wasn't you and it wasn't me? Then who was it Batsy? Fuck you and the bitch too! The box is for you! And so take your fang, and go ahead and die with a really big BANG!_

_-Lovey, lovey, lovely, love Harley Quinn!_

_P.S. FUCK YOU!_

Batman tossed aside the note and ran towards the massive window the led out to view Gotham City. But he did not have time to sight see. He had left the box within the safe and it was the right thing to do as he tossed an explosive gel tablet against the reinforced window. With a massive explosion erupting behind him and in mere seconds the tablet blew with a mixture of dust and debris Batman flipped up his cape to protect him from the flames of the explosive force echoing from the safe. With no time to linger Batman kicked out of the window. The flames blew out the frame to the massive window as a dark shadow engulfed in flame hurtled towards Gotham Bay.

After splashing into the water and breaking the surface to gulp down fresh pockets of air, Batman turned and watch the asylum burn. The explosions and resumed but the entire asylum was breaking apart as buildings fell to ruins. Leaving nothing left but dust. Batman slammed his fist against the water, yelling in rage. A surprise indeed. The asylum was destroyed, even if he did catch the Joker there'd be nothing left to return him too. But Batman heard a sudden roar of an engine.

The Dark Knight looked high and saw a helicopter flying high above the aftermath, it turned and began banking towards the city. Whoever it was that released the inmates would have to wait. He had to stop the mad clown, _now..._


	8. Reunion

Undeserved

Chapter 7

Reunion

_A few hours earlier…_

_I have sat waiting for this moment a very long time. Since my last…"escapade," one could say, security got a little tighter. But that won't be a problem give them a few days of quiet and a little sprinkle of good behavior and guards get a little looser. Then it makes them uncomfortable, twisting at that back of their mind that, "he's too quiet" or "did he get out?" Until it finally reaches the point to where they can't take it and soon they'll come and—_

"Hey! Joker! Cell transfer let's go!"

The Joker's eyes flickered open as he sat witnessing two heavily armored Arkham Guards behind the High-Security Glass, glaring at him.

"Well, it's about time! I've been stuck in these… _droll _surroundings for years!" The Joker said with a slight giggle.

The High-Security Glass slid upwards and one of the guards stepped up to the Joker and lifted him off of his seat and landed a heavy blow to his gut with a baton.

"You are going to pay for that, _Sonny Jim!_" the Joker chuckled as the other guard stepped up and tripped him, the guards catching him by the elbows as he fell, begun to drag him from the cell. "Where are we going," Joker asked with feigned curiosity.

"That's none of your business, Clown!"

"Well…!" Joker interrupted himself as he squinted at the guard's nametag, "_Jim! _Hey! I actually got your name right the first time!" he chuckled at his own quip.

"That's it!" the guard yelled as he dropped Joker and pulled free his baton. The other guard smiled deviously and backed away from the two.

"Oh, come on, _Paul, _do we have to do this _now?"_ Joker asked as he looked up exhaustively at the guard.

"Shut up!" the guard roared as he slammed his baton into the Joker's face, knocking him back into the nearby wall.

"Oh, _George_, if you wanted some quality time between just us, all you had to do is ask!" the guard kicked Joker twice in the stomach and hit him once more in the jaw with baton.

"_Shut up!_" the guard yelled as stood over Joker in an intimidating stance.

"_David! David! David! _Such anger!"

"_SHUT UP!" _Now the guard was just beating the clown in a blind rage.

"Don't… you... feel… strong…!" the Joker cackled madly between each blow. The guard lifted his baton high into the air ready to strike once more, but was interrupted as a giant force exploded behind him…

* * *

Harley Quinn sat in her cell, miserably pulling pedals off a flower, alternating between saying, "He loves me" or "he loves me not." As she neared the last of the pedals, she heard a distant explosion. Jerking her gaze from the flower she listened for more. There was another explosion. Then another. Then another.

Harley stood dropping her flower, "What the fuck?" she asked herself. Then she heard the repeated sound of doors being slammed open. _Clang! Clang! Clang! _Then with a sudden _whoosh_ the glass wall separating her cell from her cell door rose steadily. As soon as the glass entered the ceiling, her cell door slammed open.

Stepping from her cell, Harley's curiosity was peaked. She admired her surroundings. Inmates were running rampant along the halls, the guards proven useless as they were trampled by the countless inmates. Harley gave a cold, murderous laugh and skipped her way into the mass chaos.

"What shall we do?" Harley asked herself as she continued to skip through the never ending cycle of guards dying and inmates escaping. She stopped at a hallway leading either left or right. She glanced in one direction then the other. She smiled and skipped off to the right…

* * *

"Well, what do we have here?" these were the first words Jim the Arkham Security Guard heard as he come to from the shock of the explosion. Jim's eyes shot open as he greeted the sight of the Joker's face mere inches from his. "Hope you had a good nap, Jimmy boy!" the guard scowled at him and began to get to his feet when a sharp pain pierced his left leg. He groaned as he looked down at large pipe sticking from his thigh.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I forget to mention that? Oops…" The Joker chuckled as he stood to his full height and turned away from Jim. "I know it's been a long, hard night, Jimmy m'boy!" Joker crouched and picked up a large shard of glass and began admiring it. Jim merely glared at him clutching his leg, he wasn't going anywhere…

Joker strolled over to the massive hole in the wall. The pale light from the full moon shined brightly on him as he leaned against the edge of the collapsed wall. "You wanna know how I got these scars?" he asked holding up the glass, staring at it. "You could say, that it was because of a certain piece of glass, couldn't you?" he asked himself.

"You see it started on a night like this…" Joker said as he looked up at the moon, "I was at the hospital, with my wife and two kids. We weren't visiting any good ol' family members. We were patients. Well, maybe I should rewind a little. We were on our way home from the movie theatre. We had just seen a comedy. We were still laughing about it in the car. Giddy, happy, and in the excitement I didn't know I ran a red light… As I saw the semi truck speeding towards us, its mighty horn blaring at us, I hit the brake. But it was too late and just like that my entire life changed. One my kids were killed on impact. The other died in the ER from internal bleeding.

"Fortunately, my wife only managed to get with minor lacerations and bruises. I wasn't too lucky either. In the impact the seatbelt cut into my stomach and spilt my intestines all over my lap. 'A miracle you survived!' The Doc's said. Miracles had nothing to do with it." The Joker turned to the guard and began stalking towards him.

"As I lay there in my hospital bed, praying that I'd just _die _because of the pain. Not of the physical pain, you see, but from the death of my two little girls… Little did _I _know my pain was just beginning," Joker said as he crouched in front of Jim, who was now awe-struck by the story.

"The same night my wife came to see me. But from the moment I saw her I knew something was wrong. She was _smiling. _She came towards me and laid her hand on my chest and said, 'What did you think of the film?' I was confused and wanted to ask her what was wrong but her finger fell on my lips, quieting me. She walked to the window, smashed her hand into it, and pulled herself a giant piece of glass. She stalked back towards me, 'I thought it was funny. What about you, love? What did you think?' She reached my bed and cut a long line from her wrist all the down to her forearm."

"'Did you think it was funny?' She placed the point of the glass on my cheek and…" The Joker said while placing the shard on Jim's cheek. "Of course I thought it was funny!" Joker said as a large grin appeared on his face, "As you can see! _I'm still smiling about it!"_

* * *

"Mr. Warden? _Heeeelllloooo?" _Harley called as she stepped into the warden's office. She peered inside, hiding a shank she had behind her back. There was no one inside. "Aw phooey! Where is that newly appointed bastard!" she exclaimed to herself and stepped into the office. She took a long look around and her eyes locked onto the giant portrait above the fireplace.

Harley smiled deviously and ran towards it. She climbed atop the fireplace, but realized something since her job here at Arkham: No matter what the portrait always remained the same. Now, it was awkwardly hanging from an angle. The rest of the office was intact, nothing else was out of the ordinary, only the picture. Which means the inmates haven't been here yet. Harley growled and tore the picture away. The safe she had been looking for was right where those guards said it would be. _Those idiots talk _way _too much! _But now Harley was frowning the safe was already open. She slowly pulled it open and gazed inside.

There was nothing in it, except a small piece of folded latex-leather laid within. Harley picked it up and unfolded it. It was a cowl in the shape of a cat's head…

* * *

Joker whistled a jaunty tune as washed his hands of blood from a small hose faucet. He stood flicking his hands of water and admired the scene around him. Inmates were running free around him. Some cackling madly, some tried to climb the fence, others just seemed lost. His legendary grin spread across his face.

"_MISTER J!"_ Joker heard someone yell, he barely managed to turn to the source as Harley Quinn jumped on him, wrapping her legs around him, and embraced him in a hug.

"Now, now, Harl! If I can't breathe, how am I going to break out with you?"

"Oh, right! Sorry…" Harley said letting go of him and dropping to the ground, "And how do you suggest we do that, love?"

Joker's smiled turned broader, "Breaking out won't be the hard part, my dear! _We have an entire city to take over!" _

_Sweet, sweet, anarchy. Oh, how I love you! Simply take one step at a time and that's where you'll life will lead too. As you start to fall, you soon find out there's no way to stop. You end up having to face your worse fears, your life's achievements all colliding into a ball, a force that begins to tear everything to pieces. I still remember what it's like… Her sweet touch. Her loving embrace. Her final moments as she spit out her last words to me. Then, boom! It all begins with them. Pushing me and dragging me into what's left as it all falls to pieces. I'm not sorry, though. I've never seen more clearly! Everything seemed broken! Little did I know, it was all fixing itself, to the point where everything was just right! Now, I know… I don't deserve this… I've longed for it… _


	9. Out With the Old

Undeserved

Chapter 8

Out With the Old

Batman came crawling from Gotham Bay, a dark figure, silhouetting itself against the amassing chaos, echoing from the background. He kept his cape close with him as he trudged up along the slippery rocks and pebbles surrounding the bay. As he stepped onto the solid streets of Gotham he span around, water flying from his cape and uniform. Grimfaced, he observed the destruction before him:

_Arkham was gone._ The remnants of the Asylum were lit up by the mighty blaze as it continued to expand to the surrounding Narrows. The inferno was huge it seemed to consume everything it touched, adding to its already awesome form. _Was Gordon alright?_ Had the Dark Knight's closest thing resembling to an ally really _dead? _Batman shook these thoughts from his head. For now, he had to focus on the inmates, the ones that could do some real damage to the city.

_Joker,_ the psychopathic clown anarchist that, with the right tools, can easily tear the city apart, especially now that he has an army of inmates and his old gang at his disposal. He was priority one. But all other inmates spotted, had to be taken out. Some of which that could be interrogated for the whereabouts of other inmates and Joker himself.

_Harley Quinn,_ the Joker's new right hand. Just as twisted, dark, and murderous as the Scarred Clown. _If I could find her, she would lead me straight to him. _But that might prove to be challenging, considering that they had a helicopter at their convenience. The Dark Clown Duo could be anywhere in the city planning anything on anyone.

As Batman ran through suspects in his head he pulled free his grappling hook and shot it to the rooftop of a building and was launched up along its side.

_The Jail Breaker, _nothing but a shadow against a power box and organized enough to know when to disappear after the break. The Dark Knight _had_ to pursue and find this person. If he had the power to free the inmates of Arkham, there was no telling what else he would do. He would have to investigate it later, but it still remained of utmost importance.

He flew high over the edge of the rooftop and landed with a mighty _thud_. He ran forward and without hesitation jumped to the top of the adjacent building. He ran, listening to his environment, studying his thoughts.

_Scarecrow, _another high roller with connections to destruction and mayhem, preferred weapon of choice, a toxin that could create mind-bending, fear inducing delusions. Chances are he's plotting vengeance or something that would shake the foundations of remnants of the city's sanity.

From building to building, more grim thoughts of high-rated criminals and psychopaths were introduced to him. He had to stop and think, but as he did so a scream pierced the night air. Batman stepped to the edge of building he stood upon and looked down into the alleyway below. He saw two people. A man and woman, the man wore the orange Arkham Inmate jumpsuit and he held to a knife to the defenseless woman's throat. Under no uncertainty, the Dark Knight vaulted into the alley below.

As he fell, another high priority target penetrated his head:

_Killer Croc,_ a massive crime of nature, with brutal strength, amazing agility, and an insatiable hunger for flesh, the monster managed to make him look feeble within a few punches. Someone he had to find or chances are, the beast would come to him, vengeful tendencies was his nature.

As the woman tried pleading with the man to get him away, she noticed a shadow fall silently behind the inmate wearing a sick, twisted smile on his face as he proudly held the knife to the woman's throat. The woman stopped begging as the shadow rose menacingly above the inmate's head. The woman yelped as she closed her eyes from the horrifying sight.

She heard a sickening crack as something was smacked into the wall next to her. She felt the cold steel against her throat disappear. She heard a few thuds, then a groaning, another _crack_, and then the sound of a body crumpling to the ground and the knife clattered a few seconds later.

The woman opened her eyes and took in the sight in front of her. The inmate laid belly first on the ground and his wrists and ankles were tied together with a thin, black rope above his back, the man clearly unconscious. Standing above the man, however, was the shadow, lurking in the shadows watching her.

"_Run._ Find somewhere safe. He won't bother you anymore," with a flicker of darkness the shadow disappeared before the woman could say anything back...

* * *

Batman stood atop a towering building admiring the city before him. Thirty-two inmates were already taken care of, no high targets amongst them, some of the inmates never even strayed that far from the Asylum and it made easy targets to track and subdue. _What about my 'helper'? What was his end game? _As he stood, watching, he noticed his wrist gauntlet beeping. He lifted his arm and admired the gauntlet and pressed a button it. He then looked down the edge of the building and jumped. He landed gently next to the Batpod, parking itself against the curb of the sidewalk.

He mounted the pod and the engine revved with a small, stealthy, purr. As he prepared to accelerate to patrol the rest of the city, a flicker of movement caught in the corner of his eye. He looked down an alley with a peaked interest. He saw another flash of movement. It was small white object darting across to the other side of the broad alleyway.

The Batpod shutdown as Batman moved dismounted and moved quietly and silently down the unlit alley. He stopped at large gap in the wall, the size of an average man being able to easily slip through. In the darkness within the hole, a staircase led upstairs leading to yet more darkness. He moved silently into the gap and moved stealthily up the stairs avoiding the weak steps of the crumbling building. As he moved higher up the long case, the building seemed to fall in poorer condition. Chipped paint and rusty nails hanged freely along the wall and the steps. The worst part, four, long, clawing marks were made up all the way along the walls. He grimaced, _Human fingernails? _

As Batman neared the top of the staircase, he observed that moonlight was coming from a doorway above the stairs. He hesitated at the edge of the doorway, listening for anyone who could be hiding behind the corners. He didn't detect anything, so he stepped inside.

It was a large room, with a massive, gaping hole in the wall that allowed the moonlight to shine in freely. A long bar, with a ripped and tattered sheet was used as blinds for the large intrusion. In the right corner, was a white desk with built in mirror resided above it. The mirror was shattered. Glass shards could be found strewn about the floor and atop the desk. The desk itself was in extremely poor condition and it didn't help as a multitude of bottles of alcohol rested on the desk and on the floor. Most of them empty, others haven't been opened, more lay half empty on the ground.

Other than desk, the only other piece of furniture was a rugged, torn and beaten red couch, resting itself against the far left wall. Upon the couch lay eight, sleeping, snow white cats, one stood awake and alert as it perched on the arm of the couch, watching the Dark knight intently.

Batman merely stared back before something started brushing his leg. He looked down and saw a jet black cat, purring and rubbing its body against him.

"_She likes you…" _a female voice penetrated the air. It struck Batman with the utmost familiarity before he quietly muttered to himself:

"_Selina…?"_


	10. In With the New

Undeserved

Chapter 9

In With the New

Batman whirled around to face the exact direction of the voice. Sure enough, there she was, blending herself with the shadows, but she seemed different. Selina Kyle stepped forth from the shadows allowing her into the white moonlight. She still wore her "Catwoman" getup, her shocking green eyes shone with the light as did her skin, which was seemingly covered in scars and bruises. Her once flowing golden locks of blonde hair were now gone, replaced by a hairstyle that had been cut short and dyed entirely black.

Selina began slowly stepping towards Batman and he was unaware whether to be ready for a confrontation or a simple chat. As the distance between them closed she tripped and fell giggling into Batman's waiting arms. He cocked his eyebrow within under his cowl, until he realized what was really going on.

_I remembering you saying that alcohol was for the weak, _Batman thought to himself as he picked her up into his arms, walked over and laid her on the couch. "You're drunk," he simply stated as he crouched next to her, he looked her up and down, sizing her up.

"Well, no shit Sherlock. Whatever gave you _that _idea?" Selina asked incredulously. Batman opened his mouth to answer but was interrupted when Selina let out a sudden yelp of surprise. She snatched a half empty bottle of alcohol that had nestled itself in between the couch's cushions. _"Vodka!"_ she said in a Russian accent and knocked her head back and began drowning its contents down into her throat. When she had finished she chucked the empty bottle at the far wall, it shattered to pieces upon impact. Batman grimaced at the sight and then stood to his full height from his crouching position.

"I thought you were dead," Batman stated as he loomed over Selina, a dark figure to be reckoned with.

Selina blew a raspberry and then said, "You, of _all _people, should know that cats have nine lives!" She began chuckling as if she said something really funny. "I mean, how could _you _possibly know?" she slurred pointing a drunken finger at him, "You're the one that left to me to die in that god awful construction site!" she glared up at him, her head rocking to and fro. Obviously she was intoxicated out of her wits. "But fuck it! It's not like you care anyway. And I have no idea what the fuck I'm talking about," she began giggling uncontrollably again, "God! I am so fucked up right now!"

"What happened to you?" Batman said under his breath, his face now creased with worry.

"Hm?" Selina grunted, holding her ear out to him, as if trying to hear him better, "What was that dear?" she asked but she received no answer. She leaned her head back against the couch and coughed slightly. For a few moments they shared a moment of silence. Before Selina popped her head back up and began giving him a questioningly look and then asked, "How'd you find me?"

"I got lucky," Batman replied, holding his tongue of the actual piercing questions he longs to see answered.

"A man, like _you_? Pretty sure a badass, like you, doesn't believe in luck, considering the fact: that you brought down that green-thing a couple months back. You also seem to have a knack of bringing down high class mobsters, lunatics, and anyone down-right stupid enough to commit crimes while you're around," Selina said, seemingly have a deep respect for the Dark Knight, "Oh, yes, I do admire a man who can kickass, while wearing skin tight Kevlar material," she finished, standing and running her finger down Batman's chest. She bit her lower lip and brought her green eyes within contact of his piercing blue ones. He did nothing as Selina started to lean her head towards him. Their eyes never broke contact when her lips met his. Her breath was rank with alcohol. She slowly slid her arms up and around his neck, embracing him. He brought his arms around and locked them behind her back.

For the next few moments, the two did nothing but return and welcome the gesture they were giving each other. Nor did they realize when a shadow blocked the moonlight that floated down upon them.

"_How sweet,"_ said a deeply familiar voice with a twinge of loathing. Immediately, Selina broke the bond she had with Batman and reeled to face the direction of the voice. Batman slowly turned regretting who he knew was hanging from the window. Sure enough, there he was smiling a sick, twisted, evil grin, "I never forget a scent," Killer Croc explained and then turned on Selina, "Hello, _Piggy._ _Oink! Oink!"_

"_NO! NO! NO!" _Selina screamed at the top of her lungs, then turned and booked it out of her hideout. Batman began to follow suit but his cape had caught on something. _Oh no_, Batman thought as he was suddenly yanked backwards with tremendous force. He flew out the window and crashed into the building neighboring the one he had resided in. When he impacted, he left a sizable crater and his entire being screamed _Pain,_ even as he fell and smashed into dumpster below him. He rolled off and slammed onto his back, completely winded by the impact, fall, and yet another impact.

Batman laid there for only a moment, gritting his teeth in pain, before he remembered what he was up against. His eyelids slapped open just in time to register Croc's green form cascading down after him. He rolled out the way in the nick of time as the Green Beast's foot smashed to the ground where Batman's head once rested.

The Dark Knight managed to quickly get to his feet, besides his body's protest. Croc was upon him in a flash. The Beast effortlessly batted him away as if he were a mere fly. Batman soared through the air and slammed, skidding itself along the ground. Using the momentum, he pivoted and rolled himself into a backward somersault, his feet connected with ground and his gauntlet, dragging itself along the ground pulled him to a stop. Batman's head cracked back up, not to see Croc, but the dumpster he had landed on, hurling itself through the air at him. He slammed his back against the alley wall, just as the dumpster whooshed by, barely scraping by a mere a few inches from his body.

Batman fell back to the ground and started to stand when Croc's incoming foot kicked him in the chest. The force was enough to knock him clear away from the alley and collide with a parked car outside the way, placing a sizable dent in the vehicle and shattering the left-side's windows. By now, the Dark Knight's body was racked with so much pain, that Croc even started applauding him as Batman summoned all the will he had to just merely stand. He began shooting a glare at the beast, whose face was expressing genuine amazement.

Killer Croc walked slowly, arrogantly even, towards Batman, "Bravo! Bravo! I _truly_ am impressed, Batman," he had stopped clapping and began returning his glare, "and now that I know that _bitch _of a cat isn't here to help you," he looked up and gazed around for a moment, he then looked back to Batman, "and no big ass cinderblocks you can smash onto my head neither. Oh! And don't worry about your lil' cat girlfriend, I can signal that bitch out from miles away," he continued, tapping a claw on his nose, "After I'm done with you, I'll be sure to rip her up, nice and juicy for you!"

"There will be no more death by your hands, Killer Croc," Batman retaliated, the pain he felt was gone and began to prepare itself for the gruesome fight he was sure to encounter with Croc.

Croc grinned, spreading his arms wide and spreading his claws out and then said two simple words: _"Bring it!"_


End file.
